


I'll Cradle You in My Arms [Cause We're Gay]

by cluelesspaladin



Series: So, Does This Make Us Furries? [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Also not really because Antok's just, Anal, Blade Lance, Deepthroating, Edging, Established Relationship, Everyone is a little Galra AU, First Time, Fisting, Galra Lance, I was warned to tag this as wholesome filth, Knotting but no, Lance's first Galra, Lantok, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Porn with Feelings, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sexual exploration, Size Kink, Size Queen Lance, Smut, Soft and Fluffy, Some hurt/comfort, That... does not make it better, What IS the correct term for I wanna bone a big Galra dude, You Have Been Warned, begging?, big - Freeform, but not really?, canon-divergent, filthy but cute, it'll make sense if you read it - Freeform, seriously, they talk shit out, this is graphically filthy for the latter half, xenophilia I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-26 03:19:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20382811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cluelesspaladin/pseuds/cluelesspaladin
Summary: Antok is displeased with Lance's apparent disregard for his life.They talk it out and... well...Things go downhill from there.Or - the smutty sequel nobody wanted but I wrote anyway.





	I'll Cradle You in My Arms [Cause We're Gay]

“I am absolutely _furious_ with you.” Antok informed Lance, pinning him down against the warm blankets of their nest, gaze intense and simmering with unidentifiable emotion. “You could have gotten yourself _killed_.”

The absolute _second_ that Ulaz had cleared him to leave the med bay, Antok swooped in like a shadow of death, plucked Lance up and swung him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing. Judging by the sideways comments that Regris had been dropping, he was in for a tongue lashing (and quite possibly an ass kicking) he would never forget as the much larger galra stomped off down the hall with Lance in tow.

Granted, Lance didn’t remember much from the fight. He remembered Antok throwing himself around him - the momentum throwing them both out into terrifyingly empty space and looking up into the eyes of the man he’d fallen in love with. He remembered trying to convince Antok to let him go, save himself, and thinking that he was one of the most incredible people Lance had ever met. The last lunge upward to press a final kiss to his palm, and then letting go.

After that, nothing.

Ulaz was furious, Regris was pissed in more ways than one, and it was probably a good thing that Thace and Kolivan were still out trying to smooth things over with the rest of the paladins or they would have been hovering and scolding him too.

Antok was a different kind of angry. Tension coiled around his limbs with a fierceness that was almost alarming. His eyes stared him down, challenging him to try and deny that he was a complete and utter idiot.

Which, okay. He would admit that it had been a stupidly dramatic, cliché move to pull, and he would try not to ever do it again.

Unless they were re-enacting the Titanic. He would pay good money to see Ulaz, Thace and Kolivan on the bow of the boat with Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” playing somewhere in the distance.

_Focus, Lance. _

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. He could feel his ears pinning back automatically at the look of hurt and betrayal that Antok was giving him. “I’m sorry.”

The words stirred up the residual emotion that hadn’t settled, and as if saying those two words, he found hot tears welling up in his eyes.

Antok’s entire face softened in an instant, his grasp turning tender as he rolled, wrapping Lance into an embrace that completely enveloped him. A deep rumbling purr started in the larger galra’s chest, close proximity soothing Lance as he pressed himself as close as he was able to into Antok’s neck, breathing in his scent. There was something that reminded him of home, something just familiar enough that he could recall in vivid detail the rain pattering on the tin roof as he curled up in front of the windows to watch it fall from the sky. 

“The paladins tried to take you back to their castle, but I could not stand to see you out of my sight.” He grumbled; the sound low like thunder on the horizon. “Nor would you take well to finding yourself in one of those pods.”

“You would have been right.” Lance admitted. “But it worked. We got Red back.”

“Yes.”

“What’s wrong?”

For a heart stopping moment, Lance thought he had said something wrong. Antok’s purring cut off as he shifted, tilting his head as he considered Lance’s features in the dim lighting of the room.

“You are still the Red Paladin. Even if you are here now.”

Ah. That.

“You know, I’ve done a lot of thinking about that.” Lance hummed, a curious noise coming from Antok as he wriggled into a more comfortable position against his partner. “I don’t know that I want to stay a paladin. For so long, all it’s been is this pressure weighing on my shoulders. With you, the pack, the Blade… I don’t feel any of that.”

“Even if it means Voltron is without a paladin?”

“Don’t worry. I have a feeling she’ll come around.”

He thought of the way that Regris looked at the newly recovered lion, his jaw dropping even as his eyes lit up with stunned glee. Red always did know how to pick someone - whether or not they listened was another matter.

“But there’s something else, you know.” Lance continued, seizing onto the moment of boldness he felt surging through his veins like lightning. “And this time I should probably admit it while I’m not hanging into empty space.”

Slowly, ever so carefully, he brought one of Antok’s palms to his lip, pressing a chaste kiss along the flesh there.

“I love you.” He murmured. “And I probably don’t deserve you, but if you still want me_\- oof!”_

Antok surged upward, turning the tables on their position again, straddling Lance with his body caged between sinfully large thighs and massive three fingered hands cradling his cheeks like he was the most precious thing in the universe. A low curl of arousal fluttered through him at the look in his eyes, shivering as he leaned down to lave at Lance’s collarbone.

That probably shouldn’t have done as much as it apparently did for him, but he let himself be wrapped in the sensation of warm and love and quiet when Antok retreated, breath on his face as he pressed their foreheads together.

“I care deeply for you as well.” He admitted in his gravelly voice, as vulnerable as Lance had ever seen him. “We do not have the same words in our language, but I know what the sentiment means to your species.”

And there Lance’s little gay heart went.

He was gone. So, _so_ gone for him.

“Thank you for trusting me.” Lance replied, reaching up himself to trace the thick scarring on Antok’s face. The brow, down, following the subtle ridges and planes of his features before resting on his jaw, thumb rubbing along the edge of his lower lip. “Thank you for showing me who you are.”

Antok huffed out a laugh, and were those _tears?_

He panicked immediately of course, searching for any clues of what could have caused it. Antok paused him in his tracks with a firm push back down against the floor, nearly his entire weight resting on Lance’s chest as the larger went still. He could feel the end of his tufted tail flicking back and forth across his ankle.

“Antok?” he tried again, still concerned.

“You truly do not realize how much you mean to me.” He rumbled, hand rubbing gently down his side.

“Well, not to ruin any mood but… I’m feeling pretty turned on right now?” Lance offered, shuddering as Antok’s claws caught on his hip, pinpricks of pleasure shooting through him at the contact.

“Oh. Interest in coupling?”

Ruining the moment, indeed. Antok looked absolutely baffled, his features settled into something of a pout as he cocked his head to one side curiously, sitting back on his heels with his massive hands still resting on Lance’s sides.

_Hello, size kink. Fancy seeing you here. _

“Yes?” Lance was positive his face was flushed all to hell, clearing his throat as he turned his eyes away from Antok’s.

“Hm. I admit I have been thinking of such activities with you for some time now.” He said instead, and Lance nearly choked as a sinful grin stretched across his features, eyes slitting as he stretched languidly.

Lance felt like he had suddenly made a mistake. A very good, very satisfying mistake that he would be remembering for a _very_ long time. Because Antok was curves and muscle and all silky fur that brushed against his stomach as he tugged at the collar of the leisure wear top most of the Blade wore during their downtime.

And holy shit that did things to him.

“May I?” Antok inquired after pulling off his shirt, big bulky torso rippling as his hand traced circles on Lance’s chest.

Lance’s brain had left the building the second that the first inch of Antok’s stomach had been revealed, so it was a monumental effort to pull himself back together long enough to nod and shift so that he could maneuver his shirt off himself.

“If you are not comfortable with this, tell me.” Antok said, gaze searching Lance’s as he gently peeled him out of his top, shivering at the cooler temperature of the room. Despite it, Lance huffs out and arches as Antok runs curious claws across his chest, tracing his own patterns through the scars that linger on his skin. Everything was oversensitive and overcharged, the vulnerable position doing nothing to curb the arousal brewing in his belly. More so when a claw ran over the short, silken fur that adorned Lance’s shoulders and collarbone, drawing a shuddery whimper from his throat.

It had been too long since he’d been with anyone, let alone a Galra. _Any_ galra, for that matter.

Antok chuckled, leaning to rest his forehead against Lance’s again, breathing in one another’s warmth and scent.

“I am never going to let anything hurt you again.” he promised, smothering Lance’s reply firmly with his lips, nipping with pointed teeth at Lance’s bottom lip before moving to the hollow of his throat. Several moments later, Antok discovered the most excellent noises Lance could produce with a little bit of teeth and a rough tongue roving over the tender flesh. There would definitely be more than just a little reminder of their activities the next day, he was sure.

“Okay.” Lance agreed, groaning as Antok worked his way down his torso. He was fascinated by his nipples, delighted when he realized that tweaking and poking would bring them to stiff attention.

Lance’s eyes were beginning to glaze over as Antok turned his attention to another part of his lover at attention, slipping a cautious hand underneath the fabric of his pants to feel the length and shape of the smaller man’s cock. It wasn’t something he hadn’t seen before – they’d changed and showered together after training, seen everything the other had to offer before – but this time it was much more intimate.

He pulled the fabric down Lance’s thighs, enough that he could curl over and lap at the weeping head and draw out a long moan from his throat.

Curious, but something to note for later.

It was flushed, the same pale violet that decorated the rest of Lance’s skin reaching down the length to darken at the tip. The shape wasn’t entirely unfamiliar, given his Galran heritage, but there was just enough human that it was different.

“Antok…” Lance whined as the larger paused in his explorations, eyes blinking up to meet Lance’s. He already looked wrecked, his eyes blown wide and his ears pinned back, cheeks dark as he attempted to arch into Antok’s thigh.

He was dying. Maybe. His brain was gone and his filter was completely blown as Antok sat there like he wasn’t doing anything – which he _wasn’t_.

“Please- I need-“ he tried, brain cells firing and all returning an _Error 404_ to the competent part of his brain.

“Shh.” Antok rumbled, purring once again as he stroked Lance’s cheek ever so gently. And then without preamble, he was stripping Lance with the finesse and determination that a bear might have while attempting to get into a cooler full of fish; hands pawing at every inch of flesh he could find, claws catching on raised scars that were apparently far more sensitive than Lance gave them credit for, because he moaned – loudly.

The teeth and tongue were back, lapping at him, working down the length to where he could feel the cooler air of the room on his cock, a calloused palm nearly engulfing half of it in one go.

Which pretty much spelled out Lance’s fate, if he was perfectly honest.

A hot mouth descended onto the head of his cock and he was gone, the heat and intensity building immediately behind his eyes; far too long since he’d had this – far too long since he’d had anyone to share a bed with. It wasn’t long before he was nearly chanting Antok’s name as he shivered underneath the ministrations, the crescendo building as that same goddamned purr vibrated through his lower body. The pleasure took him by surprise, starbursts scattering across his vision and behind his eyes as he wordlessly shouted and came into Antok’s mouth.

Lance might have blacked out for a moment – he blinked and Antok was hovering over his face, concern physically radiating off of him even as the traces of his cum remained at the corners of his lips.

“Holy shit.” He groaned, somehow managing to pull Antok down next to him and roll onto his stomach, feeling exactly how interested his lover was in return. “That was the best orgasm I’ve had in my damn life.”

The worry shifted to a grin as Lance ground down on Antok’s belly, the friction overwhelming but stirring a fire in his nerve endings. Shifting further down still, he tugged and pulled Antok’s tight pants down and let his cock bob freely from the confines of clothing.

It was massive in comparison to anything Lance had experience with, lightly ridged and swollen at the base, a dark purple that was leaking a pale pink from the head.

Admittedly, oral was not something that Lance was particularly fond of, given some of his brief affairs with a handful of men in the past who had taken great pleasure in nearly suffocating him while giving head. Not to mention the taste was almost appalling. In one instance, his entire face had been covered in cum – a disgusting adventure that even a shower had difficulty fixing.

But his big, beefy Galra?

He was willing to try.

Antok let out a high whine from the back of his throat as Lance worked his mouth over the head, humming at the odd sweet taste that he could taste on his tongue. Perhaps worried about hurting him, he kept his hands out of the way and as still as he could, thighs borderline trembling as Lance managed to work another inch into his mouth. He felt powerful here, Antok at his mercy, blinking long and slow as he pushed himself further and further down. He dared glance up to seek Antok’s eyes, finding nothing but stunned adoration shining back at him as he threw his head back with a feral growl.

Lance moaned at the thought of him being taken, Antok’s cock sliding between long legs and seating himself as deeply as he could into Lance’s body, unable to help the shiver of anticipation and arousal that ran through him at the thought.

“Lance.” Antok panted, claws gripping the fabric of the blankets beneath them. “I don’t think I am going to last much longer.”

The sheen of sweat across his brow told him just how much restraint he was putting on himself to not hurt him. To not hurt Lance.

His eyes watered briefly - stupid, sappy thoughts - but nonetheless he rose up, inhaling through the mouth as the head rested on his lower lip, before sliding down, down _down_ to the engorged base, humming as strongly as he was able to with a cock down his throat. It burned, the stretch taking up most of his thought and thanking whatever god he could think of that his gag flex cooperated in his task.

Antok came with a _roar_, hands tearing through the blanket like butter as he arched, and yet still somehow managed to keep from thrusting deeper into his throat despite the fact that Lance could see that he wanted to.

Lance tried to swallow but his muscles had gone as much as they could around taking the length down his throat, feeling the sensation of cum sliding back up his windpipe. It was disorienting, but he managed to hold out until the last pulse of heat subsided, pulling away from Antok with a trail of saliva and cum between them.

“Stars.” Antok finally managed to mutter, breathing hard and still quivery. Regardless of the fact that he had just come, his cock was still hard and at attention, clearly ready for more.

“Mhm.” Lance agreed, ignoring the lingering ache in his jaw and throat. That was a future Lance problem. Current Lance was getting pretty damn insistent on getting fucked into the middle of next week, and his libido was proving to back him up on it, already at half mast. “We should set some ground rules.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t know how Galra have sex, but human men,” he gestured vaguely to himself, “are not designed for penetrative sex until we’ve had some prep.”

“Regardless of gender, we also require preparation to take a partner.” Antok nodded, pulling up a storage panel from the floor and revealing – thank _God_ – what appeared to be space lube. “As you are at least partially Galra, I would assume you have similar physiology as I do.”

“Only one way to find out, right?” Lance quirked a brow.

-

They quickly found themselves with Lance’s legs spread out and Antok curiously running claws over his length, humming and comparing to himself the similarities and differences.

Quite frankly, Lance no longer _cared_. The stimulation was a lot, he was starting to get antsy, and Antok still hadn’t put anything in him yet.

_And he wants to get fucked pretty badly by this point._

Finally, however, there was a soft squelch of the bottle in his lover’s hand, and then a cautious finger probing at the rim of his ass. Antok curled over them both protectively, cock bobbing as he tentatively worked his unfairly large finger into him, pressing against his walls and waiting to see a reaction before continuing. One finger alone felt like too much and too little at the same time. He arched into the sensation, toes curling when a careful twist came and a deeper push into his body.

_If this is how I die, I die a happy man._

They stayed that way for what seemed like forever; Lance was floating in a haze of pleasure and simmering arousal as Antok caressed his skin and thrust one finger in and out of him. He knew Antok was going to add another when a rather lewd noise escaped him, his lover’s features fond as he chuckled.

There was no way Lance was going to do any less than two fingers before Antok put his dick in him. One, because he was absolutely the biggest thing he had ever seen in person. Two, it felt very grounding to have no boundaries between them; gentle affection that bounced back and forth between them.

Intimate, but effective, he would admit. Enough pleasure he was aroused, but not enough to come as he was.

“Fuck!”

Antok’s finger had brushed against his prostate on the last pass, and he felt new heat roll through his belly and coil there, anticipation back in the game.

“Soon.”

If Antok realized that he’d found Lance’s prostate – or knew what it was, for that matter – he certainly didn’t show it. Easy confidence radiated off of him as he added a second finger. It was beginning to build into a pressure of near orgasm, desperation following close behind at the anticipation of a second orgasm.

Time blurred into pleasure, two and then finally three fingers twisting and turning and stretching in ways Lance didn’t know he could be aroused from, but here he was, leaking like a faucet as Antok patiently continued on. Like he could just do this for the rest of the night.

God, he was simultaneously aroused and horrified by the thought.

He could feel himself falling deeper into the sheets, near boneless before Antok finally made some noise in his throat and uncapped the lube again. One by one, the fingers vanished, earning a displeased whine from Lance, before Antok’s hands grasped his hips and pulled him closer, until he could feel the head of his cock brushing his skin.

The second he started to work it into Lance, he couldn’t help the long, high keen that left him, hands scrabbling at the blanket below him. Fingers were one thing – the real deal was another. He moved slowly, pushing carefully past the tight clench of muscle, one hand on his thigh and soothing it with his other hand.

He could feel the thick veins of Antok’s cock against his walls, felt himself clench down around it as Antok shifted, and then could only gasp as he rocked into Lance, pressure on his prostate and the gentleness of it all hitting him like a bus.

“Wait- wait-“ he protested, stiffening as he tried to breathe through it.

Antok shifted, tried to move backward but Lance shook his head furiously. Confused and worried, he rumbled something, an instinctive noise responding before Lance could sort out the weird Galra emotion that went with it.

“I just need a minute.” He finally managed to gasp, trying to relax around the impossible girth that was stretching him open.

He got a doubtful look at that one, but he didn’t try to pull away from Lance either – a win for Lance in the long run.

Lance winced, his body tense. Antok’s hands rubbed against his sides as he trembled, intent on remembering to inhale and exhale. He wanted to be able to do this, wanted to do this completely, but he was known for biting more than he could chew and this was one of those instances.

“Breathe, little one.” Antok hummed, a low coo following it as Lance involuntarily clenched down around him. Lance growled back before he realized it, ears flicking as he narrowed his eyes up into still-concerned ones. A low rumble answered him, softness in every inch of Antok’s still form above him.

A comfortable silence fell over them, Antok content to continue running his hands over Lance’s sides, his chest, his legs, leaning forward to rest some of his weight on Lance as he relaxed and continuing to explore his body. He did almost get a knee to the face when he grazed the back of Lance’s knee, the nerve endings extremely sensitive at the touch.

Finally, he settled on carding his large hand through Lance’s soft hair, making sure to flick an ear tip now and then to watch the appendages twitch. Lance’s eyes lidded, head tilting into the touch to get all the attention that he never could seem to get enough of. He finally began to feel himself unclench some of his muscles – his thighs first, followed by his lower back. Antok began to slide deeper into Lance before either of them realized it. 

Lance squeaked, a starburst of pleasure bursting behind his eyes as a ridge caught his prostate again, before biting his lip and pushing back against Antok’s hips. Now that he’d relaxed slightly, he was able to focus more on the pleasure that accompanied the lingering aches and stretches his body would regret in the morning.

Hands that had been comforting him grasped down onto him to keep him immobile – not fair, by the way; he thought he should at least have some say in this considering he was the one getting fucked, but then Antok withdrew almost completely and Lance knew he was in for it.

The first thrust was enough to shift him further up the bed, a strangled noise leaving him as he set a pace Lance knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up with. He felt full to the brim, his lungs heaving as he tried to suck in a breath of air. Antok’s length pushed further into him at each thrust forward, overstimulated tears pulled from his eyes as he threw his head back with a sob.

Antok growled as Lance tried to shift, a low whine leaving his throat as he dropped back down, feeling like he was almost floating in the overwhelming sensation of _Antok_.

It was the fullest he had ever been and more, feeling the pre-cum dripping from himself as Antok thrusted into him, managing to maneuver him so that Lance was basically sitting on his lap. The new angle had him whimpering at each thrust up into tight wet heat, his prostate in the direct line of fire as the head of it caught. Still, any lingering pain blended into pain-pleasure-heat, trying to thrust down in time with Antok.

He could feel it when his belly tensed, an oncoming wave that was only amplified the harder Antok fucked into him, both of them lost in the sensations. He could feel his ass tightening around the cock in it, the swollen base nearly brushing it with how deeply they’d managed to work him in.

“Please, please please please.” Lance chanted, voice going up another octave as he deteriorated, nonsensical begging and sobs interspersed in the haze of pleasure hanging over his mind. Single-minded focus at the forefront, all Lance could do was grind down at every opportunity, letting out a shriek when finally, the entire length of Antok was buried into him, the thick base feeling almost like it was plugging him up as he tensed up and came.

It was never ending, blinding. He might have been yelling, but he couldn’t hear sound past the roaring in his ears. Wet heat filled him, felt Antok’s cock pulsing deep within him as he grunted and followed suit. Claws tightened into his skin, Lance scrabbled to grab onto Antok in turn, panting as he waited to feel cum begin to leak from him.

But it didn’t.

“If you tell me that you’re so big you essentially have a portable butt-plug attached to your body, I’m going to marry you as soon as I can figure out how to walk again.” He promised, giggling tiredly as Antok peppered his face with tiny kitten licks, his shoulders slouching as he went boneless.

“Mm.” Antok agreed.

Lance was one hundred percent certain that he was just agreeing for the sake of it – he was listless, eyes lidded and watching Lance with the attentiveness of an adoring pet. He probably could have gotten away with telling him he would walk out the airlock and he would nod and go along with it.

Actually, that one was iffy. Antok’s protective streak was a mile wide and just as deep.

“I love you.”

The dopey grin he received in return would have been enough to light up a thousand worlds, open and vulnerable and the edges of his eyes crinkling.

-

Later, they would be regaled with the horrifying realization that while most of the rooms on the base were at least marginally soundproofed, Antok had half scared Regris to death when the poor Blade made the mistake of walking down the hallway when Antok had roared. There were even gouges into the floor and nearby wall from where he’d leapt up and taken off like the devil himself were after him to prove it.

Ulaz and Thace were exasperated but amused when Lance and Antok had finally made an appearance, and Kolivan had outright let out a bark of laughter before composing himself enough to look almost entirely innocent.

(The paladins heard it via Regris and Pidge nearly blew up Lance’s communicator with the sheer number of lewd jokes and judging emojis combined.)

Lance made a point of sending her photos of suspiciously neutral poses and activities until she finally called to demand a truce because she was expecting the other foot to drop. It did when Antok stole Lance’s phone and took a photo of him pinning Lance to the bathroom wall, barely clothed and Lance’s entire face a shade of purple unknown to any Galra or human.

After the embarrassment wore off, Lance embraced it.

It was all a part of their life together. The good, bad, occasionally hilarious mess that they’d become when they’d fallen into each other’s orbit.

And Lance wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
